Work Text:
Vienna, 1951
Tobacco did nothing for him. His fingers twitched without cause, as he ground his teeth and chewed on the inside of his mouth. The night was warm, and the city bustled. The elegant steps of Roderich’s Viennese home were shadowed by the unkempt garden- evidently, in his respective post-war poverty, gardeners were hard to come by. He waited, taking one long last drag off his cigarette before crushing it under his boot. Before knocking, Gilbert contemplated his own foolishness at his calling upon Roderich- but Roderich was much more foolish to even agree to see him again after their impromptu meeting the day prior.
Gilbert rapped his knuckles on the chipped paint of Roderich’s door, considering one last time turning back. The door swung open before he could make such a decision, revealing Roderich, dressed as finely as ever, his lips pursed and one brow raised in question.
“You’re late,” he said, blocking Gilbert from entering with his arm holding the door. “You’re half an hour late. Since when were you late to things, Prussia?”
“Since never, your watch is broken,” Gilbert retorted, stepping close to Roderich, looking down his nose at him in his height despite the short step down he stood on. “Are you going to let me in?”
Roderich narrowed his eyes at him, and for a moment it seemed as if he really would slam the door shut in Gilbert’s face- it would not have been a first- before disappearing behind the door as it swung wide open. Gilbert made no hesitation to step in, and in the dim light of oil lamps, Gilbert with his poor vision could still make out the amount of furniture that was missing from Roderich’s entry room, and just beyond it, his parlour.
“Had an estate sale, did we?” He took off his jacket, draping it on one of the few chairs that remained in the parlour that he followed Roderich into. “Or are you redecorating?”
With a scoff, a sarcastic reply came. “I would appreciate your commentary on the state of my home to be kept to yourself- I have heard about the state of your lodgings and really, Gilbert, we are all poor but we don’t have to be that poor.”
“Princess doesn’t like the idea of humble living, what a surprise!” Gilbert retorted sardonically, sitting heavily down on Roderich’s velvet sofa, resting his arm on it and leaning back, legs spread comfortably. “Hey, I don’t mind it, you always had too much shit anyways. Come down to the level of all the little people around you, it’ll do you some good. Besides, when I was young, I slept under the moon, with the stars as my blanket and the earth as my mattress. I’m living it up now, really, compared to then”
Roderich, in the surprising stead of his maids, tended to the small fire in the fireplace, adding more wood and poking it for a moment before turning his attention back to Gilbert on the sofa facing the fire. “I have hardly any other options,” Roderich muttered bitterly, watching as Gilbert drew another cigarette from his tin case. “Give me one.”
With a nod of his head, Gilbert offered the tin out to Roderich, who slunk over to the sofa in his typical elegant manner, delicately plucking one of the cigarettes with his pristine, pretty little fingers as Gilbert thought them to be. “Do you have a lighter?”
“‘Course,” Gilbert put one smoke in his own mouth, then traded his tin for his lighter which he lit with a practised flick of his wrist, holding it out for Roderich who leant down close to Gilbert’s hand until his smoke was well lit. It was a routine all too well known to them, Roderich always demanded such acts of service or he would have nothing to do with Gilbert.
Roderich sat on the other end of the sofa, leaning back and crossing his legs, studying Gilbert as he smoked. “How is Ludwig?” he asked, frowning. “I admit, I haven’t written to him much.”
“Eh, he’s fine, I think- yeah, he’s fine,” Gilbert shrugged. “He’s always out I hear. Which is good. Time he went off and did things for himself. I encourage it.”
Rolling his eyes, Roderich sighed. “Of course… I suppose he’s grown up now, somewhat. Goodness, it was too fast… Remind him that he’s still a boy, won’t you? I have no intention of visiting Berlin any time soon, and don’t think he has much care to come to Vienna.”
“Oh, I remind him- don’t you worry about that. Little fucker thinks he’s grown, but I remind him. Christ. Imagine being a hundred and something years old again. I don’t even remember it!” To this, Roderich stifled a small laugh, rolling his eyes at Gilbert.
“I feel a million years old,” He said with a sigh, tilting his head back. “I’m sure you noticed my appearance. I look dreadful.” To this, Gilbert frowned.
“You look as fucked as everyone else, but you’re still beautiful,” he shrugged, shifting in his seat. “You want me to tell you that, eh? That you still got it?”
Roderich laughed, and shook his head. “Do not give me reason to kick you out.”
“Only telling you the truth, long as you let me tell you it,” he turned his gaze to the fireplace, but felt Roderich’s eyes on him.
In the moment of silence that fell between them, Gilbert felt his nerves come back again, realising exactly where he was and his company. It had been decades since they were able to be so civil to each other, and Gilbert felt himself getting edgy as he wondered when it would shift- it had to, it always did! But so far, they’d managed not to berate and scream at each other as soon as something as touchy as Ludwig was brought up. Evidently, the war had lessened the blow of his name on the other’s tongue. It had been silent for too long. Gilbert wanted to say something, although he had no inkling of what that would be.
“I-”
“Come here.”
Gilbert looked at Roderich, blinking confoundedly for a moment, before realising what Roderich was asking of him. He snubbed the remainder of his cigarette in Roderich’s fine glass ashtray that was getting rather full on his antique side table, and shifted himself to be closer to the Austrian on the sofa.
“I don’t think you invited me over for just tea and cake,” Gilbert said softly, stretching his arm across the length of the sofa, his hand a hair away from touching the back of Roderich’s neck. “Or am I mistaken?”
Roderich sniffed, his usual air of haughtiness ever present, before he wordlessly handed the butt of his cigarette to Gilbert to dispose of in the ashtray. Gilbert did so, quickly, and used the opportunity of movement to inch even closer to Roderich.
“You are correct,” he replied, crossing his arms and leaning back slightly, Gilbert’s knuckles grazing the back of his neck. In this proximity, Roderich’s perfume nearly overwhelmed his senses with memory- a signature, triggering scent that had bothered Gilbert with ravaging lust and painful reflection for centuries. “As you can see, I have no tea made, and I have no cake. I am a terrible host. My staff has been taken from me, and I can barely boil a kettle on my own. Terribly sorry if you wanted that.”
With a raised eyebrow, Gilbert gave Roderich an amused look. “Actually, my night has been ruined, and I am going to go fuck myself now- I came all this way to Vienna for tea and cake, and you have disappointed me greatly.”
Again, Roderich laughed, arms uncrossing, knees touching Gilbert’s own, as Roderich’s hand rested on Gilbert’s thigh. “I think that I have something better than tea and cake, if you have such a need,” his voice was soft, shoulder pressing against Gilbert’s side as he leaned into him.
Gilbert’s heart began to race, implication sounding in his mind, feeling heat in his face and stomach as Roderich’s hand squeezed his thigh. “Do- uh, do you now?”
Roderich nodded, closing his eyes and leaning into Gilbert fully. “I do. But, you must take it for yourself. You know how I loathe serving my guests.”
He swallowed, clearing his throat, letting the hand that barely touched Roderich’s neck slide against his skin, pulling him closer, tilting Roderich to have him look up at him as Gilbert shifted his weight and hips to lean into him just as much as the other was. “You are a terrible host,” Gilbert mumbled, as he told himself in his mind to get it to-fucking-gether as he already felt his body burning to touch Roderich. “Fortunately, I’m in a giving mood.”
The corner of Roderich’s dainty mouth tilted into a smile, and with an unexpected show of aggression he snaked one hand into Gilbert’s hair and the other around his back and pulled him down onto him, kissing him. Their teeth clacked messily as Gilbert tilted into him and wrapped his own arms around Roderich, giving into the desire he had felt since he had come south.
He had yearned for decades, and now in the ruins of all their now useless accomplishments he found himself in Roderich’s arms yet again, willing to devour without destroying- he had waited far too long for his, and could have rutted against Roderich and been done with it in minutes in his desperation. Roderich knew this, and to quell Gilbert’s impulsive hips he pressed his own against him, sliding a leg around the back of his thighs and the other in between as he yanked at Gilbert’s hair, controlling his rhythm and heartbeat.
“Fucking wanted you so bad,” Gilbert gasped against Roderich’s face, breaking the kiss for a moment to look at him. “Been waiting, mother fuck-” Roderich silenced him by gently pressing his knee between Gilbert’s legs, and moving his mouth onto Gilbert’s cheek, then jaw, then neck, teeth grazing him.
“I know,” Roderich whispered, tugging at Gilbert’s shirt, skillfully pulling buttons out of their holes and sliding his hand against the heat of Gilbert’s chest, grazing his plentiful scars, his chest, his ribcage, making him shudder. “I knew the moment you saw me.”
Roderich’s instantaneous, smug knowing of Gilbert’s longing sent a wave of aroused mortification through him- he was sure that Roderich knew this too, and was glad that he had his face pressed against Roderich’s so he couldn’t see how red his cheeks burned. Roderich’s lips grazed his ear, and Gilbert thought he would fall off the couch, groaning against him as his grip around Roderich tightened.
Gilbert’s weight grew heavy on Roderich, but the pressure was well missed and needed- the home was empty, and Roderich had very few visitors. He felt steady and calm under Gilbert, who he enjoyed to see unravel, knowing if he kept on prodding as he was, whatever little composure Gilbert kept around him would be out the window soon enough. “What do you want, Gil?” Roderich mumbled into Gilbert’s ear, lips right against his earlobe.
With a shiver, and Gilbert’s open mouth kissing at Roderich’s neck now, he mumbled his own response- “You.”
“You can give me more than that, darling,” Roderich hummed, amused, tilting his neck to give Gilbert more access. Gilbert’s shirt was now fully open, his pants ill-adjusted, while Roderich remained annoyingly dressed- he wouldn’t let Gilbert undress him until he felt he had earned it, however. “Come on, what do you want?”
“Fuck- I want uh-” Gilbert rolled his hips against Roderich’s, grinding where he was throbbing. “Whatever you want, anything you want, I wanna give you whatever you want.”
“Hmm…” Roderich tugged Gilbert’s shirt past his biceps, and Gilbert let his grip of Roderich go for a moment to help take his own shirt off, before loosening his belt and starting to tug his pants down. “You are so hasty, slow down for me.”
Gilbert’s hands went back to Roderich, nodding dumbly, half stifling a groan of frustration, but pulling at his shirt. “I wanna see you,” he said softly, “Can I?” If it hadn’t been decades, Roderich would have enjoyed playing and teasing with him much more- but even his own composure had its cracks, and in his lonesomeness he was willing to give Gilbert his way so soon. Roderich nodded, and watched as Gilbert fumbled with his buttons.
“As long as you don’t rip any of my clothes,” he sniffed, running his hand through Gilbert’s hair, remembering the rushed rendezvous at a number of festivities- balls, weddings, baptisms, fucking in a closet, in a hidden room, in a garden- many blouses and pants ripped under Gilbert’s rough, demanding hands, which always irritated and aroused Roderich like none other. “I can’t afford any new ones at this time anyways.”
“I’ll uh- if I fuck up your clothes, I’ll give you mine,” Gilbert said, frowning in concentration as he carefully opened Roderich’s shirt, his calloused knuckles grazing Roderich’s bare, pale skin. “I’ll buy you new ones. I don’t care. You shouldn’t be living like this.”
Roderich laughed softly, patting Gilbert’s head and sat up, now with his shirt unbuttoned and chest bared. “I agree, darling,” and he leaned in close to Gilbert, who sat back on his heel, the other foot steadying himself on the carpeted floor, watching as Roderich took his face in his hands and kissed him again.
Heart pounding, Gilbert laid back, pulling Roderich on top of him snaking his hands down to the back of his trousers and tugging them down his legs. It was almost too much, and they were still only warming up- Gilbert could barely believe it was happening, despite his earlier charms. Yesterday, when he spent the best day he’d had in over thirty years with Roderich, wandering Viennese streets while he had that moments respite from the work that brought him south in the first place-the world around him seemed unreal and unreachable. Roderich was always unreachable, but now as he grinded into him, nearly completely nude, beautiful, and Gilbert wanted to pinch himself to make sure it wasn’t just another stupid dream.
“Let me just take care of you, baby,” Gilbert murmured into Roderich’s ear this time, pulling him close, their skin hot on each other, as Roderich helped him snake off his own trousers, shoes since kicked off in the process of it all. Gilbert’s hands deftly explored, in familiar territory, feeling and hearing Roderich’s reactions. In the firelight, with them both nude and flush against each other, their uncharacteristically gentle touches cut through all else. The spontaneity of the encounter left them rubbing against each other, both eagerly marking the other, growing louder, until they finished fairly quickly, hot and messy between them.
“Stay the night,” Roderich panted, catching his breath as Gilbert cradled him in his arms, blinking sleepily.
“I have nowhere else to be,” Gilbert replied, pushing Roderich’s hair out of his face, kissing his forehead. Roderich closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, exhaling shakily- he’d compose himself in the morning, for now he traced lazy circles on Gilbert’s scratched back, and let Gilbert kiss him again and again in his empty parlour. When the fire died out, they’d slowly make their way up the stairs to Roderich’s bedroom, where Gilbert would ask to fuck again, lazier this time as the morning was very early, until they fell asleep entangled in arms and bedsheets.